You're No Good For Me But I Want You
by Forwood
Summary: Santana Lopez is a total nerd and she's fine with it. The only problem is that the badass girl Brittany is making her life impossible. Everything changes eventually when Santana is designed to be Brittany's tutor. (Badass!Brittany, Nerdy!Santana. Side Kurtbastian and Faberry)
1. Prologue

**Ship:** Brittany/Santana (side Kurt/Sebastian, Quinn/Rachel)

**Rating:** Nc-17/M.

**Author:** Forwood/EdyFerrone.

**Summary:** Santana Lopez is a total nerd and she's fine with it. The only problem is that the badass girl Brittany is making her life impossible. Everything chances eventually when Santana is designed to be Brittany's tutor. (Badass!Brittany, Nerdy!Santana. Side Kurtbastian and Faberry)

**A/N**: Please, read the notes carefully.

This is story is linked to the Kurtbastian one, _Come And Take A Walk On The Wild Side_ (posted on EdyFerrone's account). It is not necessary for you to read both, but it would help you getting through the verse better. We also wanted to give you some warning before you read: this story includes dub-con, bullying and eventual use of pot and drugs. If you don't feel comfortable with any on these themes, I suggest you don't read the story.

Please, let us know what you think about it!

**Beta:** Itsnevergettingbetterthanthis.

/

**Prologue **

"So ..." Emma Pillsbury takes a deep breath before she begins. "The reason why we're here today has nothing to do with punishment or all of these things that you teenagers think are counterproductive or anything like that. We're here because we believe it's important for you that you realize that your educational situation is slightly above mediocrity. A disastrous school career at the limits like yours might affect your life, your future, your family and-_Kurt_! Get your feet off the desk!" She screams out anxiously at the thought of how many germs are invading her daily territory.

Kurt smirks and stares at Miss Pillsbury, smugly, right in the eye, challenging her with his gaze. For a few seconds he considers ignoring her order, but, even though he is usually so out of control and arrogant, he knows that his didactic situation is dramatically serious. He's not stupid. That's why he calmly shifts his legs, allowing Ms. Pillsbury to sterilize the desk with her wipes.

"That's just what I was talking about!" Emma exclaims angrily, probably more horrified by the bacteria left by the student's shoes. "Not only is your situation tragic, but your teachers also complain about your behavior. We're only a few months from graduation, don't you have any dreams for college? For your future? Or would you rather be stuck in this school forever?"

The blonde girl sitting next to Kurt snorts and shoves a hand in her pocket to pull out a cigarette. She quickly leads it to her mouth, wrapping it with her lips, dyed in a sparkling red that would surely leave a mark. An arrogant smirk comes over her face and she looks so proud of herself for acting so out of line.

"Brittany! No smoking here!" Mr. Schuester scolds her, standing next to Emma, who has begun to cough because of the cloud of smoke that is spreading through the room.

"That sucks Mr. Schue!" Brittany exclaims, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

"Put it out, now!" Mr. Schuester orders again and this time Brittany is forced to obey, but she doesn't betray her style.

Kurt gives a smug look while Brittany stubs out her cigarette on the desk directly in front of Will and Emma 's shocked eyes.

"Oops." Brittany murmurs innocently, before laughing out loud with Kurt.

"Enough!" Will exclaims firmly, slamming his big hand on the desk to restore order and shut the room up.

Hearing the strong and authoritarian tone Schuester was using, Santana - sitting in the other corner of the desk, next to her best friend, Sebastian – almost jumps off of the chair, scared. She hates when people scream, or worse, when kids lacked respect for adults. As a child she had received a rigid upbringing and the first thing she learned from her family - besides discipline being his life motto - was just to respect the adults.

Santana can't really see two people of her age so bold as to challenge their teachers and disobey the rules. If she'd ever do such a thing, her parents would probably throw her out of the house.

However, neither she nor Sebastian have figured out yet why they're in Ms. Pillsbury's office along with those two jailbirds. Even being in the same room with them for Santana is sort of a crime, a violation of law.

She doesn't even dare to look up to meet these ice-blue eyes that occupy her thoughts, because she's afraid.

Brittany S. Pierce is Santana Lopez's worst nightmare.

She never understood why this girl enjoys torturing her so much, making her life difficult, so much that more than once Santana had planned to talk to her parents and to ask for a transfer to another school to spend her Senior year in peace. But the idea of abandoning her best friend, Sebastian, at Kurt Hummel's mercy had crushed any hope of living a serene adolescence.

She sighs and begins to move her legs nervously, waiting to know what Schuester and Pillsbury have in mind.

"Mr. Schue," Brittany begins, wrapping an arm around Kurt's shoulders, "now that we know we won't pass the year, we can go?" She asks annoyed.

"I can't breathe in here. There is too much stink of failure." Kurt adds, pointing at Sebastian and Santana at his right with the index.

"Guys, please." Schuester says while Emma sinks into the chair, still deeply shaken by their behaviors. "What we're trying to do here is for your own good."

"How can our good to include these two?" Brittany swings, looking into her eyes without a second glance.

Santana bites her lower lip nervously, clutching her chair and controlling her breathing that suddenly getting agitated. She can even feel her cheeks grow hot and probably colored along her cheekbones, but she can't help it; every time that Brittany's there, she has no idea how to justify the feelings of discomfort that invade her, forcing all these terribly nervous gestures.

"Not a word." Schuester replies firmly, tired about their impudence. "Do you want to graduate? Do you want to build a future or want to throw your life between alcohol and drugs?" Will continues seriously.

"What Will is trying to tell you is that, along with Principal Figgins, we've decided to assign you tutors to improve the subjects in which your situation is really critical; biology and chemistry, Spanish and French." Emma explains. "And this brings us back to you, guys," she adds, pointing to Sebastian and Santana.

"W-what do you mean P-Miss Pillsbury?" Santana asks stammering.

"No one told you can speak, nerd." Brittany growls towards her.

"Brittany!" Will shouts, ordering her to be quiet.

Santana thanks Schuester with a shy nod, though her eyes have become hopelessly wet. Whenever Brittany assaults her with bad words - no real reason behind it all – she immediately feels the need to cry, the need to be protected.

"We believe that you're the right people for this task. It won't be easy, but Brittany and Kurt need to learn from model students like you. That's why we have compiled for you a program and ..." Will turns to Kurt and Brittany. "... Santana and Sebastian will be your tutors."

"What!?" The four students cry at the same time.

"This is madness!" Kurt mutters, shaking his head.

"We can't breathe the same air they breathe for more than ten seconds, how would it be possible to spend our time together to study? Forget it, Mr. Schuester!" Brittany rebels, throwing a disgusted look at Sebastian and Santana, who look down at the pavement, frightened.

For the first time in their lives, they both seem to agree with Brittany and Kurt.

Neither Santana nor Sebastian approves Schuester's freaking crazy idea. Neither Santana nor Sebastian is excited to help two people who have done nothing but hurt them in the last few months, making their high school lives a living hell.

They both want to express their opinion, make it clear to the two teachers how uncomfortable this bizarre situation is, but the fear of saying a word in front of their worst nightmares is so great their words are lopping off in their throat.

Santana can't help but think that there would be consequences to her words, that Brittany would see it as an absurd lack of respect and, therefore, she might take revenge in worst ways she already has.

"We're not giving you an option," Schuester repeats more seriously. "This is essential, not optional. Your situation is catastrophic; you might lose the school year. "

"But we don't want-"

"No complains, Kurt," Schuester interrupts him before he can finish the sentence.

"This is your calendar," Emma adds, placing four small pamphlets that have cute and chubby little men with books in hand on the cover and within the schedule for the entire week on the desk. It says at least one and a half hours of study for each subject.

"I'm sorry to destroy your precious castles of conviction, but we really don't wanna get involved with losers like that," Kurt protests again, supported by Brittany. "I mean, did you see yourself in the mirror?" He asks, turning to Sebastian. "Those sweaters scream 'older than my grandma'. You're an insult to good taste!" He exclaims laughing along with the blonde at his side.

Sebastian immediately becomes red with embarrassment and clenches his hands into fists, he wants to punch the arrogant look off of Kurt's face.

There's nothing wrong in his sweaters; they're warm and comfortable.

Santana shakes her head and puts her hand on Sebastian's shoulder as if to comfort him, but Kurts's words seem to have a deep humiliation reserved for him.

"And look at her ... Nerd, have you ever thought to lock yourself in your house and never come out again? No one would miss you here at school," She croaks acidly, exchanging a nod with Kurt.

Santana immediately feels uncontrolled tears sliding down her flushed cheeks and she shrugs, more vulnerable than ever.

She wants to get away from here as soon as possible.

"Enough!" Will snaps again. "You have no choice, you'll study with them and if your grades don't improve ... there's no way you're graduating. Do you want to refuse our help? Okay, I'm ready to call your parents and tell them you're about to be suspend for a month."

At these words, Kurt and Brittany freeze in their chairs, even unable to laugh.

"In addition, if you just try to still make fun of these two guys, I'll take care of it personally," he adds, turning then to Santana and Sebastian. "If have any problems, please contact me and Miss Pillsbury. Don't be afraid guys." They both nod shyly. "That's all for today."

/

Santana and Sebastian spent much of the next hour sitting on the floor of the girls' bathroom, their back resting against the wall, talking about it and describing the apocalyptic depressing situation in which they're forced to spend hours a week with their bullies to get them to study. It's already an impossible mission; imagine if you add to that the fact that Brittany and Kurt have full control over them, since they look like they're too good to be afraid of anything.

Eventually, the ringing sound of the bell signals the end of the break and the beginning of the last hour of lessons, the one they can't miss (just like all of the others). Sebastian and Santana hold the record for least amount of absences in the whole school, maybe that's why they were considered the quintessential of nerd by all of McKinley.

That nickname had never bothered them so much. Actually, they were kind of proud of being nerds. They were meant to be the children that their families had always wanted, pupils with the highest averages of the school.

Of course, this affected their social life, but they are trying to make it together at least. They don't have many friends - none actually - but they can surely rely on each other.

Santana walks down the hallway with her head down: she hates to have all eyes focused on her as if she were an alien. There's nothing wrong with her. Usually Sebastian's presence at her side helps her to ignore the terrible cheerleader jokes, but unfortunately the Spanish lesson is the only one they don't have together.

Holding her hands tight wrapped around the books, walking faster to the classroom where she's going to feel safe, but turning the corner, she bumps against something, or rather someone.

"You're supposed to be the little useless silicone nerd that should teach me something." Brittany rests her elbow on the wall, as if she has been waiting for her. An evil grin is spread on her dyed red lips, and those blue eyes are staring at Santana to intimidate her. "I'm not interested in surgery or collection of stupid comics you've got to read from the first to the last page, so tell me ... what could I get from you?"

Santana freezes on the spot and her body reacts by immediately starting to shake, visibly. She's sure that her legs are going to fail if only she dares to look up and cross those ice-blue eyes.

"I-I-I can to help you to ..." Santana sighs, trying to calm the trembling in her voice that makes her even more ridiculous than she is normally, "... Improve your grades." She mutters, biting her lower lip, ready to face the next insult without being able to rebel to her.

"Oh, and how? I'm not going to spend my days sitting in a high school classroom, alone with you, like a poor loser." Brittany replies, not even hesitating a bit with her voice, cold and cruel. "Unlike you, I have a life that doesn't only consist of comics, video games and afternoons spent cleaning glasses. It must be very sad, I guess ... "

Santana feels her eyes become hopelessly shiny and wet, new tears forming at the corners, ready to fall down her face. But she's not going to cry in front of her, not again.

"W-Why are you so mean to me?" Santana mutters. "I haven't done anything-f ..."

"Oh, but you have." Brittany answers immediately, putting her hands on her hips. "The mere fact that you breathe the same air in Ohio as I do, means you have. You have no idea what it means for a person like me to just even know that you exist." She lifts an eyebrow, firmly determined to go all the way.

Santana tries to collect herself, she tries seriously. But the result is just a silent cry.

"S-stop ..." she whispers in a faint voice. "Stop insulting me, stop treating me like this!" She tries to fight back, not knowing what to expect in response.

"Why?" Brittany asks, raising an index to point it threateningly against Santana and enjoying her reaction, the way she sighs, startled by the fact that she could hurt her. "I would never stop doing something that I enjoy so much. Maybe if you'd stop being so fun to mistreat I'd give it a try, don't you think?" She gives her a wink, sarcastically.

"I-I will talk about this with Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester!" She exclaims, trying to intimidate the taller girl, with little success. "I don't want to have anything to do with you!" She fights, sobbing.

"Do you really think they could do something about it?" Brittany asks with a grin, reaching out a hand to her shoulder in an ironic way to pat her. "They've never helped you, they never will. No one can protect you, nerd."

Brittany is right. In all those months of torture, no one has ever lifted a finger to put an end to these acts of bullying. Sure, Santana never had the courage to denounce harassment she suffers everyday for fear of further consequences, but it isn't a mystery in the eyes of Principal Figgins or teachers that many students are targeted by that group of petty criminals.

"That's not true!" She lies, maybe more to herself than to Brittany. "Mr. Schuester will b-ban you if only-"

"If I only?" Brittany asks, with an evil grin that spreads more and more. "If I only hurt someone small and insignificant like you?" She lowers her voice and comes over to whisper the words directly on Santana's face. "Nobody cares about a freak like you."

This time she doesn't even try to hold back the tears that flood down her face.

"Go away!" She exclaims, trying to dry her wet cheeks with the palm of her hand, but the excessive proximity to Brittany limits her movements. She's so scared that she wouldn't even have the strength to cry out loud if Brittany hurt her physically.

"Oh, someone here is trying to provoke me …" Brittany says, tightening her fingers around her shoulder, never letting go. "Don't do that, sucker. You would regret it, and you know it, don't you, Santana Loserz?"

Santana simply nods, unable to utter a word. She just wants to end this nightmare, with Brittany letting her live, she just wants to go to her class and do her homework and then go home and cry in her mom's arms.

Perhaps, if she doesn't fight her, Brittany will leave soon.

"Very well, now that you understand exactly how things are going, Loserz, I'm not going to waste even a minute more of my precious time on your mute lips," she replies, with a grin, wrinkling her nose. "I look forward to the end of this torture seriously, so I can breathe the smell of winning again."

A glimmer of hope is kindled in Santana. Brittany hates her company as much as Santana hates hers. Is this the end of her nightmare?

Santana lifts her wet - but hopeful - eyes to cross Brittany's damn blue and clear ones as if to ask permission to go.

But all that she does just is show her how weak she is, how much power Brittany has over her, she's showed her just how Brittany's words can really affect her.

Santana Lopez feels like nothing. Santana Lopez _is_ nothing.

"Enjoy your asocial day, loser." Brittany grants, greeting her with her hand in an ironic way. "I have people to see. Real people, I mean. Not characters in pixels."

She doesn't even know why she's nodding at her words, maybe it's just a habit since Santana seems to be a robot whenever Brittany is around.

Santana has never felt like a person, to be honest. At least not in that school.

From the moment her path had crossed Brittany's, her life had lost all value.

A person differs from a machine, they don't have feelings.

Santana doesn't have that characteristic, not anymore. She's just an object that satisfies the whims of a young immature and rebellious girl, a person who has made life a living hell.

She turns and runs sobbing toward the classroom, still accompanied by the laughter of her worst nightmare.

/

The moment she crosses the threshold of the gym, Brittany is already feeling out of place: the stupid place is one of the most unknown places to her, since she has skipped carefully all the lessons that would provide physical activity - as well as other subjects actually.

Her eyes are becoming accustomed to capture the prey, they immediately point at the girl in overalls who shrugs at each ascent of the women's volleyball team, terrified that some of these big girls could take choose her as a target.

Brittany grins at the thought and walks over.

"How many balls hit you today?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and getting the attention of those dark eyes that were turned firmly to the floor just a few seconds ago.

"None." Santana murmurs soon, as she's also afraid of talking.

It has only been two days since that incident in the hallway - 'bless the weekend' Santana thinks - two days when Santana is back to feeling like a person, not an object to mistreat and throw, two days in which Santana hasn't shed even a single tear about her miserable life.

And now, with the start of the new week, she'll be forced to see Brittany for an hour and a half. Every day.

Nowhere to run.

She has done nothing but curse her teachers - something that she's immediately regretted because, despite everything, Santana doesn't know what hatred is – who have forced her to meet the girl who is ruining her adolescence.

She's imagined every possible scenario for this experience and certainly her expectations aren't the best. She wonders how many times they are going to interact before Santana burst into tears again.

"I have prepared schedules for our lessons." She explained, intimidated by Brittany's gaze on herself. "I have a c-copy for you too," she adds hesitantly, handing her one of the papers clutched to her chest.

"Oh thank goodness." Brittany mutters, absently taking the paper from her hands and looking down at it. "Do you realize that because of your f-fucking stutter I thought that you were going to say 'I have a c-crush on you," she even mimics her voice.

Santana immediately blushes and looks down in embarrassment. She has never focused on the aesthetic side because she has never had the chance to actually stare at Brittany for more than ten seconds in a row without bursting into tears or looking away because she was unable to keep up with her.

Her eyes, however, are the only thing she remembers perfectly about her, perhaps because she's too used to reading into them the hate and disgust that Brittany feels toward her.

Brittany has a certain reputation in this school, but Santana has never been able to define her attractive.

She _can't_.

"I rated the subjects on which to work according to your grades." she decides to ignore the comment. "I think we should start with chemistry, given we have a test next week." She silently compliments herself for completing a sentence without stuttering even once.

Brittany rolls her eyes at that though, obviously annoyed by the fact that Santana has decided to ignore her joke, since she is so proud of having pulled it out.

"Chemistry is a language I've never understood." Pierce snaps, immediately setting the record straight. "I can't understand it, how can Mr. Schuester and Carrot Top think you can change that, honestly."

"Chemistry is one of my favorite subjects, Miss Summers says I'm her best student." There is a brief moment when Santana smiles. Maybe it's the first time she smiles while Brittany is in front of her. But the obviously ironic laughter that follows forces Santana to look down again. "I can teach you everything you need to know, from balancing to the periodic table, blending and-"

"You're also the teacher's favorite, right?" Pierce asks amused, with a sharp voice. "This is fucking hell," she mutters, shrugging. "The only kind of blend I know is something that you can't even imagine with your little innocent virgin mind."

Santana shrugs and hides her red face, her skin is on fire and Brittany enjoys seeing her like this.

"S-Stop it," she mutters in a trembling voice. "I just want to help you, why are you so m-mean to me?" She asks once again, but she expects the same usual answer.

"Mean?" Brittany immediately asks, wrinkling her lips, as if Santana had wounded her with her words. "Oh, no baby, you're mean for the simple fact that you exist and annoy the rest of the human race with your presence. I'm helping the world when I handle you." She reaches for the Santana's hand to grab her in her own, caressing her oddly; she can't help but be pleased with the way Santana startles.

To say that Santana was literally shaking would be an understatement. The only times she had had a physical contact with her was when Brittany pushed Santana against a locker, or something like that.

"Please don't hurt me ..." Santana pleads closing her eyes tightly and trying to pull her hand away with little success.

"Then don't make any more comments like that, got it? Calling me mean because I do something good is really a horrible thing." Brittany mutters, pretending to be sorry. "Don't you think the world would be a horrible place if there wasn't someone to hold off you losers?"

Santana nods imperceptibly, she even agrees to insult herself just to get away from her, to create a safe distance that would guarantee that she wouldn't suffer any kind of harm.

Her hand is burning in Brittany's strong grip that seems to grow every time Santana tries to pull away from her touch.

"Don't hurt me ..." Santana repeats, sure her eyes are already shining with fear.

"I'm not it." For once Brittany seems sincere, moving her thumb on the back of her hand. "I'm stroking you. If you stopped pulling your hand away, maybe I wouldn't need to tighten up around it. What problem did you have in life that you can't recognize violence from a caress?"

At these words Santana just lifts her eyes and stops squirming. Brittany is right, it's just a caress. A caress that - Santana wouldn't admit it out loud, not even for two free tickets to the Comic Con in San Diego - is deliciously enjoyable. Brittany's skin is soft and warm against hers.

But that can't erase the fear in her dark irises.

"You are my p-problem," she confesses, biting her tongue immediately for what she has said.

Brittany blinks, looking at her with confusion in her eyes, but then smiling malignant.

"Oh, no, sweetheart." She murmurs, stroking her hand with more force, almost threateningly. "I'm not your problem. Have you noticed that you haven't got hit by a single ball since I'm sitting here? And then you were like this even before I made you notice, so I'm clearly not your problem."

'I'd rather being hit by a ball.' Santana thinks, biting her lower lip to keep words that could irritate Brittany.

"You're right," she nods to please her, but at the same time, she tries to withdraw her hand again because these 'caresses' - if they can be called so - are starting to scare her.

Brittany is unpredictable and Santana has already tried that, only fail again.

_Safety distance_, her brain shouts like an alarm.

Immediately, as soon as she tries to pull away, Brittany stops her: she pulls her closer with her own hand to fight and Santana finds herself suddenly approaching, until she is almost on Bittany's lap in a completely unintentional clash caused from her attempted escape.

She has no idea what has happened or _how_ it happened, but Santana finds herself with one hand resting on Brittany's leg - to avoid falling and attracting all eyes upon herself - and just a few inches from her face so that the tips of their noses are touching slightly.

For the first time Santana is staring at those lips, so thin and apparently soft, her white cheeks with smooth skin, her freckles - that Santana thinks are adorable - loosely covered with the thin layer of make-up, her eyebrows perfectly groomed and then once more those eyes that penetrate inside her with one look.

She hates to admit it, Brittany is really gorgeous.

But when she becomes aware of her body, their position, the way they are touching, Santana immediately feels like she can't breathe and her blood is pulsing in her veins so strong that she fears it's the sign of a heart attack.

"Are you comfortable?" Brittany asks abruptly, distracting her from that contemplation. "Because you know, I'm starting to think that you also want to drink a cup of tea sitting there. So is it nice, at least?" She asks, clearly sarcastically.

Before she can control it, however, her blue eyes slide over the girl's body lying awkwardly on her and she can't help but stare through the light and innocent neckline, to dwell on her perfect boobs. The vision immediately sends a shock down her spine, but she ignores it; she's still a loser, right?

Santana seems levied by these harsh words and, awkwardly, she leaves to return to her seat. This time, with her pleasant surprise, Brittany has released her hand.

"S-sorry." She did not know why she was apologizing; after all it wasn't her fault. She wouldn't have even dared to think of such a thing. She feels uncomfortable even to look at her, let alone to lie almost completely on her body.

"As you wish." Brittany mutters, too confused by her own thoughts to be able to really focus on her words, too shaken from having seriously contemplated this nerd's body. "However, can we... get back to our business? I'm seriously starting to lose too much time on you."

Santana nods quickly, messing with her papers to find the schedule that she has carefully prepared.

"It's okay for you if we m-meet here after class?" She asks, settling her rimmed glasses, maybe slightly larger in proportion to her face. "In a couple of lessons w-we can recover the arguments for the test."

"I hope so. I might be able to stand a couple of lessons, now that I think about it ..." Brittany's blues fall back on her chest before she can control it and, really, how can she have not noticed before? She's got some perfectly round boobs. It's impossible not to notice. "Yes, I can stand anothercouple of lessons."

Santana lifts an eyebrow confused. What happened to _I'm not going to spend a single minute with a loser like you _or _I do not want to hear your petulant voice_?

She's psychologically ready to take the usual insults she gets from Brittany ... if it weren't for the fact that the blonde has just admitted out loud that she wants to take lessons with her.

"Seriously?" Santana asks, in fact, sure she didn't understand it.

"Seriously." Brittany confirms immediately, a little fascinated, wondering how Santana did not notice her gaze. She shakes her head and looks into her eyes. "But don't think that this means that I like this. It means that maybe, for two hours, I won't commit suicide. "

"Oh ..." Santana murmurs, it's certainly not the compliment that she expected but seems to be a good start, however, if compared to the torture she had imagined suffering from today onwards. "I promise that we will make it fast." She nods, returning that look for only a fraction of a second.

"I hope so for your good ..." Brittany murmurs immediately, trying to sound menacing and not turned on. "Because the longer we take, the worse my revenge is going to be." She looks her straight in the eye to clarify her message.

But despite everything, Santana doesn't feel the usual thrill of fear, doesn't catch the usual threats in her tone of voice.

"Of course," she says nodding, particularly bewildered. "You won't waste your time with a loser like me." She is so used to those kinds of words that it is easy even to say it out loud.

"Exactly." Brittany immediately confirms, nodding. "See, when you realize that you're not worth it, you can even say something interesting."

Her mind meanwhile, wanders through considerations and projects that can somehow include those gorgeous boobs.

Santana sighs sadly. For a few seconds she was really deluded that Brittany would be nice, or at least nearly so, to her ... but the chances of such a thing happening are equal to the hope of catching one of those legendary Pokémon on her Nintendo DS.

"So ... I'll see you t-tomorrow." She stands up, packing up her briefcase and carefully putting together all her notes. She separates her notebooks and books for each subject, opting to hand carry the ones for biology.

She is ready to leave when she notices Brittany's lessons calendar at her feet. She bends down again, under the focused gaze of the blonde, and picks it up. "It's important that you take this around with you, always," she explains, handing it to her.

Then she leaves without adding another word.

Brittany's eyes traced the perfect curves of her breasts one last time while she was turning. Not that that would make her a unique and interesting human being in her eyes, but at least it gives her a good reason to follow the lessons. One that has little to do with education, and more with a couple of hot air balloons.

She grins to herself as she watches the volleyball game in progress.

For some reasons, suddenly, these lessons seem a bit more interesting.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hello everybody!

To Guest (I want Brittany to take her bullying too far and for her to actually feel bad), Guest2 (Seem like an interesting start, why does Britt hate San so much?) and to Adrimarie97, about the bullying. This is sort of what happened with Puck in S1. There was no particular reason why he bullied losers, they were just losers in his eyes and that's why he did that. And plus, he and the Titans wanted to close Artie into a bathroom and threw Kurt in the dumpster and then they were friends, so I just think this is about _understanding_ when your attitude towards people is wrong. Plus, we've been writing this exactly because we were disappointed with lots of Brittana nerd/badass stories in which badass!Brittany turned into a cupcake as soon as she was around Santana. It's not wrong, it's just that we wanted something different. I hope I made things clearer with this ^^.

Thanks to any of you for your sweet comments, asks on tumblr and following. We're so so happy that you're enjoying our story and hope we won't disappoint you! ^^

**Beta: **Amanda908565.

/

**Chapter 1**

As soon as the arms of her Catwoman watch – her beloved abuela had given it to her when she turned 13 – marked 4 o'clock P.M., Santana is already sitting on the benches of the school gym where she is supposed to meet Brittany for the first lesson on their calendar: chemistry.

The gym is almost empty, except for some cheerleaders arching and bending around in training. None of them had clearly spoken to her since Santana had arrived but Santana is fine with it because for once she isn't going to be mocked for her clothes and glasses – at least she hopes so.

They're probably here for some Sue Sylvester punishment.

She shakes her head and starts pulling out her chemistry notes from the white and red bag with Wonder Woman's face on it, waiting for Brittany.

To be honest, Santana has wondered many times today if Brittany was going to come.

She has never been afraid of anything and anybody, so not even Schuester can force her to do something probably. No one is ever going to force her to take lessons from such a geek as Santana and for a moment Santana _hopes_ that Brittany is going to act like she would normally: screwing the lesson up because she just doesn't care.

Not studying with her this afternoon means spending a nice day with no insults and threats, a day free from any fear, worry and tears.

Once again, Santana shakes her head at this thought.

Santana Lopez is a girl who wears her golden heart on her sleeve and she would help even the most despiteful human being in the world, even Albert Wesker in the flesh, if it meant doing something good.

She looks at the watch again. Brittany is supposed to be here in five minutes and the faster the clock scans the seconds, the faster her heart beats in her chest.

She is so anxious at the idea of spending one hour and a half with Brittany that she can feel her stomach clutch uncomfortably. Brittany is clearly going to make her life impossible again during this time.

She finds herself thinking about her best friend, Sebastian, who is probably going through the same sorrow, since he's supposed to meet Kurt now. Somehow, they didn't have the chance to talk on the phone yesterday, like they usually do before they go to sleep, and Santana feels the need to talk to him now.

She brings the phone out of her pocket and texts him then.

To: Sebby: You still alive?

She sends it, sighing melancholically at the thought of Sebastian's scared face, probably similar to hers.

From: Sebby: For now.

That's the answer Santana gets. She holds the phone tightly into her hands and chews her lower lip. If they could face this together, it'd probably be easier for both, they'd be less hurt.

To: Sebby: I wanna go home, Seb …

She sends again and then she stares nervously at the time. Two minutes left.

From: Seb: Me too. But we can't.

Santana nods because no matter how much she wants this, she knows she can't go against their teachers' will. For once she hopes she could be the rebel girl she tried to turn into in the past.

To: Sebby: I really don't get what we've done to deserve this! We already have to stand them every day, but this is too much! Well, actually … something weird happened yesterday …

She sends it, showing her disappointment toward herself because the words she's used can really express what happened.

From: Sebby: What?

Santana thinks a little before she types back because she isn't sure about what's going to come out. Maybe she's just imagined everything, but she feels the need to tell her best friend about it.

To: Sebby: Brittany was a little less mean to me yesterday … isn't that weird?

She writes, thinking exactly at the moment when Brittany brushed her hand or the way they said their goodbyes without insults.

From: Sebby: Totally weird. Maybe she was so bored that she didn't feel like wasting her energy either.

It hurts to read this because Santana is now aware of the fact that she's so boring that Brittany doesn't even enjoy making fun of her. Maybe it's positive, maybe it just shows how useless her life is actually.

To: Sebby: Yeah, maybe. What about you? How was Kurt?

She texts, extremely curious to know about their afternoon too.

From: Sebby: Let's say it was awkward. I don't know if it was better or worse, but … awkward.

Santana reads the text a few times, confused. So Kurt acted differently toward Sebastian too? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

To: Sebby: Hmmm … Do you think there's something on their mind? I'm scared now.

She sends while her mind starts to picture horror movie plots having them as protagonist.

And when she doesn't get a reply, her theories suddenly become even more concrete.

What if Kurt had just kidnapped Sebastian? Or worse, what if he closes him in a sewer with giant rats just like in the Ninja Turtles? What if he's cut him his arms just like Freeza did with Piccolo in that horrible Dragon Ball episode? She loves Sebastian's arms, how can she live without his hugs?

She fidgets with her fingers as she tries to turn her brain off since she's just ridiculously over thinking. Probably Sebastian has already started their lesson and that's it.

A lesson that she's supposed to start too, but Brittany is late of ten minutes at least.

Not that she's surprised: she'd imagined that she was going to spend a lot of time waiting. Why should Brittany come? She's even been too nice not to hurt her yesterday, so she can't be nice two days in a row, right? Maybe it's better if she doesn't come. She's not going to make Santana pay for yesterday.

She sighs, deciding that she's going to spend her time repeating her notes, even though the waiting is totally making her more nervous. She would have preferred a warning, but Brittany isn't really the kind of girl who tells you she's not going to come.

She patiently waits for almost twenty minutes – she has repeated her chemistry notes at least three times by then – when she understands that Brittany is not going to come. So she eventually decides to take her stuff and just walk away.

It's not her fault if Brittany doesn't want her help, she's done what she had to and she's surely going to tell Schuester about it.

Right when she's standing up though, to walk toward the exit, she ends up colliding with something, indeed someone. Brittany's hands, her longs fingers, press involuntarily against her chest almost spontaneously, forcing Santana's skin to burn into a blushing fire red from embarrassment.

Her body is on fire just like the Human Torch, but she is sure that the temperature of her body is getting higher than the nucleus of the planet. Right now her body is so warm that she's sure she can melt things and people with a simple touch.

Except for Brittany of course.

Brittany's hands are indeed still tight on her chest as if nothing is happening, making it hard – if not impossible – for Santana to breathe. So she just stands there, staring at these long fingers on her own body, unable to do anything else.

Brittany smirks satisfied for the involuntary contact that has casually given her the chance to get where she wants. Nonchalantly, pretending like it's just casual, Brittany tightens her fingers slightly over Santana's chest to let them fall to her hips and smirk at her, while she looks straight into her eyes.

"Hello, Arale."

Their eyes stay connect for only two seconds though because Santana can feel her skin burn under her faze, just like her hands have set her body on fire. She feels like she's about to explode.

Santana doesn't even manage to reply, so much that she lets her breath talking for her. No one has ever violated her body like this, no one has ever even brushed her actually. She has no idea what it means to get touched by a boy or a girl and if the touch has been casual and unwanted – that's what Santana is trying to think – it has made a storm rise inside her.

She doesn't know if she liked it or not. It was just … weird.

"You won't answer?" Brittany asks, looking at her meanly. "Did someone just steal your tongue or maybe you've lost your voice during a Skype nerdy chat call during which you've discussed with your geek friends about the final boss of some videogame and which is the best strategy to defeat it?"

"N-no, I-I just …" Santana stutters and walks back so awkwardly that she almost stumbles on her own feet. "It's just that I-"

She doesn't manage to finish the sentence, unsure about what could possibly come out of her mouth. She's still shocked about what had just happened and she's ashamed to show that to Brittany.

"That you?" Brittany asks, pointing at the wood benches to tell her to sit. And yet, her gaze traces Santana until it reaches her bag perfectly closed. She goes back to Santana's eyes, looking disappointed. "Were you thinking of canceling on me?"

"Yes … I mean _no!_" Santana corrects immediately while shaking her head in order to clean her thoughts. "I thought _you_ were going to cancel on me." She explains, trying to make her notice that she's half an hour late but without blaming her. She shouldn't provoke her more than she's already doing.

"Well, this is a good reason for you to leave." Brittany lifts a hand to tightened her fingers around the material of Santana's sweater right under the neckline, forcing her to walk backwards and follow her step. "You should wait for me all night long it that's necessary."

Santana would want to reply with the same arrogance Brittany uses with her but she isn't even sure she knows how to do it, so she just lets Brittany win again.

"I-I won't do that again." Santana murmurs. "Just … don't hit me, please." She closes her eyes as soon as she feels Brittany's hold tighten around her sweater.

"Not this time." Brittany answers, still pressing threateningly against her chest – well, honestly she's also trying to get over the material. "But believe me, you better be careful to what you say or do during the next sixty minutes because I might not be this kind again."

Santana presses her eyelids together, feeling pushed by Brittany's hand, and she avoid her gaze that seems the usual cold and mean one as always.

"O-okay …" She whispers, leaning a shaking hand on Brittany's strong wrist. "Can you … can you let me go now?" She asks hesitantly, unsure about the effect this question is going to have on the girl. She feels a pressure on her chest though and she's going out of breath, so she just wants Brittany to leave her.

"Should I?" Brittany asks, looking meanly at her with her eyebrows arched and without even thinking to pull her hand off of Santana's chest (actually, Santana breasts, but there's no need for Santana to know about this detail). "Just give me a good reason since you were planning on sneaking away before I came."

Santana pulls her fingers off of Brittany's wrist immediately and lets her arms fall beside her sides, shaking at the thought alone of touching her again and gain herself another ice gaze.

Santana Lopez is indeed fucking scared by these eyes. No threat is as deadly as these two pieces of eyes filled with hate for her.

"I-I'm sorry, it won't happen again!" She tries to say, but Brittany doesn't seem willing to give up in the hold. So Santana feels pressed closer to her body and it's getting to hard to stare at the floor. "You're hurting me …" That's not really true, but as she feels that hand brushing on her chest, there's something moving inside her, a sensation of euphoria, maybe excitement. She isn't sure about it though and she doesn't feel like thinking about it now either.

Brittany lets go of her a little – not completely – giving Santana the chance to move back so that she can wrap her fingers around the girl's chin now, lifting it and forcing her to look into her eyes.

"Next time you get such a stupid idea, your face might be the one getting hurt instead of your precious silicone." She whispers, pushing Santana back a little and then leaving her chest completely. "How about we get a seat now?" She asks in a fake kind tone, since it's clearly an order instead.

Santana is shocked for a few minutes, she stays like this as her eyes get filled with tears – because she's really thought Brittany would hit her – and follow Brittany as she sits on the bench.

How could she find out? How does Brittany know about that?

Santana has never talked about her fake breasts with anyone. Well, actually, she's never talked to anyone except Sebastian maybe, but Brittany has found out about her little secret with just one touch.

A few years ago, during the summer between freshman and sophomore year, Santana went through a common phase for girls of her age. She wasn't a nerd, not a complete nerd at least back then. When she walked into McKinley for the first time, Santana had tried to be like all the other girls; but she was too kind, she had other interests, she didn't fit like the other students.

So, she decided to change her body, wrongly thinking that her new perfect boobs were going to help her entering the system better and becoming popular.

It didn't work.

No surgery could change what Santana was.

She swallows loudly, trying to wake up from this sudden storm of memories and she looks down on her own chest, at her wrapped and wrecked sweater.

How has Brittany got it?

The answer is easy.

No girl is innocent like Santana anymore. Especially Brittany.

She doesn't add anything though; she just sits besides her, keeping some distance between them.

"Why so far?" Brittany asks immediately, without wearing off that smug smirk not even for a second. "Come closer, honey. I don't bite. Maybe …" She murmurs, blinking, conscious about the fact that Santana fears enough not to look her without permission.

But for once Santana doesn't obey the order, not because she wants to challenge Brittany or something, but because her muscles are stiffening so much that she can't move. Even breathing has because too much of a pain in the ass.

"I've got s-some notes for you …" She barely manages to say, ignoring her words.

"Okay. So come here and give it to me." Brittany orders again, her voice sounding nothing like kind, to make her understand that she's not going to pass on this. Maybe she's been too kind during the last twenty-four hours, seen as Santana is rebelling to her.

Santana just nods though now and finally slides along the bench until she's close to her. She starts rummaging into her bag and when she finds what she was searching for, she leans to put her at her feet again.

"Here there's everything you need to know about chemical equations." She explains and then leans the paper towards Brittany, unable to control the way her arm is shaking.

Brittany gets even closer until her side brushes Santana's and she can't help but move to look better at her neckline: she definitely has something interesting to do right now.

"So tell me, do you think there's a good equation between your gigantic tits and your thin body?" She asks, her voice sounding a little tempting – also mean as always.

Santana feels her body on fire again because Brittany's words do nothing but confirm her theory: she has actually noticed.

She doesn't know if she can allow herself to be flattered or not. What's sure is that Brittany's nasty look on her body makes her uncomfortable. Also, she has no idea why Brittany is complimenting her body, since she's a girl too.

"I don't-" She starts confusingly and holds her arm to her chest so that she can cover up.

"You don't? Don't hide them, Loserz. Not even a fortress would be able to hide your balloons." She nods at Santana's chest without ever looking up, completely shameless.

Santana doesn't the opposite instead: she wraps and crosses her arms on her chest, covering her body as much as she can, so that she can deny Brittany the possibility to see her.

She just wants to disappear.

"We're supposed to study …" She notices, but Brittany doesn't look like she agree with her, obviously.

"Yeah, well that's what we're doing, right? I'm studying the chemistry between my eyes and your tits." Brittany shrugs lightly as if she has said nothing wrong. "I think it's such a better dynamic rather than stupid materials."

Santana shakes her head and she slides on the left for a few inches putting a new distance between them.

"That's not why we are here." She complains, tightening her shoulder. "I-I wanna go away." She confesses without even knowing why she is saying these things out loud.

Brittany isn't surely going to give her a way out.

"Do you want to go?" She asks, looking at her like she has said something crazy. Then she smirks evilly. "Oh but look, Santits, you _can't_ go away. There's no way I'm letting you walk way not that I have found something interesting in you. Though I don't know if I can mean it, because it's silicone, it's not really yours."

"You-you have no right to judge me!" Santana replies, surprised at how firm her tone of voice sounds. "You have no idea what I've gone through and-" She looks up, proudly showing her eyes filled with tears. "And I don't want to deal with you anymore!" She says nervously, riding her new courage as she finds the strength to stand up and move her legs to walk to the exit, not caring about her books still gathered on the floor of the gym.

Eventually, as soon as she moves, Brittany's hand grabs her wrist, pulling her back strong, so much that Santana is laid on her lap before she can realize it.

"Who gave you permission to stand up?" Brittany murmurs, holding a hand on Santana's back to keep her there.

And just like yesterday, Santana finds herself into Brittany's arms before she can know why or how it happened. Their bodies have never been this close and Santana can't deny the shivers she feels on her skin there where Santana is touching her covered back.

She parts her lips but senseless sounds come out and Brittany ignores it since there's something much more important before her eyes.

"You look a lot better now …" She whispers, her eyes gazing to Santana's breasts. She subconsciously licks her lips and lifts her eyes a little, even if it's unwilling. "You could teach me whatever you have too staying like this …"

Another shiver runs through Santana's body and she can't help but look at Brittany's lips, there where her tongue has made them shiny. She shakes her head immediately when she realizes she's found her lips attractive, and she tries to stand up but Brittany's hold keeps her from doing it.

"You're just … a pervert!" She comments, her face flushing.

Brittany's arms are wrapped around her waist firmly and are blocking her. She won't admit that, especially to Santana, but she finds this contact exciting. That's totally a secret to keep to herself.

"I'm not." Brittany answers falsely innocent. "What makes think I am?"

Santana instinctively puts her hands on Brittany's shoulder, being careful not to make it last to much – she's indeed barely brushing with the tips of her fingers – almost as if she wants to put their distance back between them.

"Stop looking at me like that!" She answers. "Let me go …" She whispers lowly since she's burning with embarrassment at this position.

"Why should I do that?" Brittany murmurs back, without any hesitation, her voice low but sure. "You don't want me to do that either, actually." She explains with a smirk on her face. "Then, again, I have to find a way to make this less boring. It's this or a slushie to you."

Santana hesitates for a few seconds: does she want that too? Does she what to stay into Brittany's arms? Does she want to feel her warm body around her?

Probably not.

She's not sure about it, but she realizes that the more time she spends on thinking, the more Brittany is pressuring her back and closing the distance between them.

"I just want to go!" Santana exclaims, shifting uncontrollably on Brittany's lap. "Please, don't make things harder than they are." She mourns.

"You are the one who's making things harder." Brittany answers readily, without pulling her fingers off of Santana not even for a second. They're long enough to hold her for good. "I'm not doing anything wrong to you, Sanny, don't make such a deal out of this."

"T-this wasn't part of our schedule." Santana murmurs, feeling her skin on fire right where Brittany is touching her. "I don'- … we c-can …" She tries to continue but she has no idea what she's trying to say. She often says things which don't make any sense when she's nervous, and that makes her look even more stupid at other people's eyes.

Brittany's arm arches until her hand reaches Santana's abdomen. She strokes it dirtily, one of those contacts that look sweet only because they're heading to something, also because Brittany's smirk makes her intentions quite clear.

"We can." She answers firmly, winking at her. "We can and must do whatever I want us to do. You know that, right?"

Santana closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. No one has ever been this close to her, not to mention touching her like Brittany is doing.

Once again, she finds herself in the middle of an emotional storm, but she's not sure it's a positive detail.

Brittany is making Santana feel things that she didn't even know they existed. And that scares her.

"W-what do you want to do?" She asks hesitantly, trying to hold her abdomen back to escape Brittany's fingers.

Brittany smirks again, wrinkling her lips ironically, just a little.

"For now you could just stay still and shut up." She answers, nodding towards a book. "You shall speak _only_ to explain something to me and then … we could go somewhere, but not for now."

Santana suddenly feels like burning at the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon on Brittany's legs and she shakes her head.

"I can't teach you chemistry while I'm … sitting on you." And she tries to stand up again, this time more firmly.

"Of course you can." Brittany answers, shrugging with fake innocence. "Or not?" She asks, freeing Santana's body from her hold all of a sudden and letting her fall with her ass on the wood stairs of the gym.

Santana can't keep in a suffering moan for the pain caused by the sudden and violent impact. She tightens her eyes and massages her hurt asscheek as best as she can, while Brittany doesn't even try to keep in the laughs, making her feel even more uncomfortable.

"That's not funny." Santana murmurs with a painful face on, finding it hard to stand up.

"It is." Brittany giggles lowly, pointing at the place where she was sitting. "You were the one who wanted to be freed. So you'll stay there now and I hope you don't try to move." She threatens. "Are we clear?"

Santana nods slowly, since sitting on the floor sounds so much better than sitting on Brittany's lap.

"Can you give me my notes?" She asks gently or maybe frightened, crossing her legs.

Brittany smiles smugly and proudly, since she's gotten control over the situation again.

She grabs the notes and throws them on Santana's lap carelessly.

"I'm listening." She smirks and then puts her chin on the palm of her hand.

/

When the unpleasant / pleasant encounter is over – she isn't sure about how to define it yet -, Brittany has run from the high school walls, walking to the courtyard. As soon as she gets out, she notices Rachel and Kurt sitting there and chatting, probably about something in Rachel's interest as usual.

"You should tell Brittany. She's the one who's into girls." She hears Kurt saying. "I wouldn't touch Quinn from a distance, she's a _girl_."

"What should she tell me?" Brittany asks, cutting in.

"Duh, nothing!" Rachel exclaims as soon as Brittany stands there. She knows that Brittany doesn't make any difference between boys and girls anymore and even though she would probably never find Quinn attractive, she wants to keep them as separate as possible.

"We were talking about her precious Fabray." Kurt answers instantly and betraying her. "About her and her gay skirts …"

Rachel hits him with her elbow, like she wants to tell him to shut the fuck up. But it's too late, considering Brittany's smirk.

"Did you finally manage to get into her panties?" She asks indeed.

"No, hey, no!" Rachel yells, blushing. "That's not what I'm planning on." She winces. "This is exactly what you two would do."

"Is there anything better than sweet lady sex?" Brittany asks, arching an eyebrow. "If you don't know how to do that, I could teach you-"

"I beg you to stop with this conversation." Kurt groans with a disgusted grimace on his face. "Think I'm gonna throw up …"

"My offer is valid for you too still, Kurtie …" Brittany answers, smirking. "You should try before you judge …" She adds, winking at him.

"No, thanks." Kurt answers immediately, rolling his eyes. "Your disgustino lack of a penis doesn't get my interest." He complains.

"Ever heard about strap-ons. I know how to use one and-"

"How were the lessons with your future crushes?" Rachel asks and the duo throws her daggers through their eyes as Brittany and Kurt have both turned confused towards her, like they're offended at these words.

"Excuse me?" Brittany asks, crossing her arms to her chest.

"Your future nerdy crushes." Rachel repeats shrugging. "You guys spend so much time on torturing them. It looks like you're obsessed."

"Crushes? What is that supposed to mean?" Kurt asks but looks now like he's enjoying it, as Brittany finally sits beside him.

"Don't ever say that again, Rach." Brittany smiles, but her voice doesn't sound friendly. "It's funny, you should try that too. The best part is when they run to the bathroom crying!" She laughs and so does Kurt.

"I don't think so and if I were you, I wouldn't laugh." Rachel says shrugging and looking at them like she's sure of her own words as she crosses her arms to her chest.

Brittany wraps an arm around Rachel's shoulders then and shakes her a little.

"Rach, baby … what the hell are you talking about?" She asks, as confused as Kurt feels.

"I'm just saying …" Rachel starts again, while Kurt lifts an eyebrow, "that one day you'll understand what it's like falling in love with a nerd!"

Kurt and Brittany look at each other for a long minute, then their eyes focus on Rachel that is staring back at them.

And then they just laugh out loud.

"Oh God, Berry, what have you smoked? You didn't seem so stupid yesterday!" Kurt says as he's having a hard time to breathe.

"How can you just imagine Kurt and I falling for a nerd?" Brittany finishes for him. "We're not losers like you, baby. We don't fall in love."

"The only things we actually love is torturing them" Kurt says, nodding to Brittany.

Rachel stares at scene for a few seconds and then – even though she just wants to wince – she smiles. For once, she lifts her chin and an eyebrow, shrugging.

"When you'll come to me telling me how right I was, I'll laugh even more." She says firmly. "You'll regret that you didn't believe me."

The calm and strict tone she uses makes Kurt and Brittany hesitate for a second; but when they imagine the future Rachel has predicted again, they go back to laughing.

Kurt and Brittany don't fall in love.

Kurt and Brittany are never going to fall in love.

Kurt and Brittany are never going to fall for a nerd.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N**: I beg you to read these notes before you start.

More than one of you pointed out how Brittany's behavior is harsh and heavy on Santana. I respect your opinion of course, but the reason why we started writing this nerd/badass stories is right that most of the one we've read included nerd!Santana and a badass!Brittany turning into a puppy in love in the first three chapters. Now, as much as I respect what other people write, you can't really talking about realism in forgiving bullying and harassment when you ask for something that is totally unrealistic. A person can't change in two days when he/she has got his/her attitude and has got it for years.

This is what this story is about: changing while figuring out something. It doesn't happen in two days and characters need to go through several mistakes before they figure out what's the right way to do it. The first thing Brittany finds interesting in Santana when being forced to spend her time with her is sex. She does because sex is an easy comfortable thing for her and by now, she doesn't realize it's not the same for Santana. If she realizes it, she doesn't care because she hasn't come to terms with the fact that Santana is a human being too for now. If you think this is a 30 chaptered story about non-con or dub-con sex, you're wrong. But if you think you're going to find out that characters are in love with each other in the first three chapters, you're just as wrong as you were before. This is slow and it needs for Brittany to figure out things she has pulled away from her life for some reasons you will figure out as you read.

Eventually, if dub-con or non-con (if you want to see it as non-con which we don't think it is completely) is a no for you, just like bullying and harassment, just **stay far from the story**_._ We warned you from the beginning, so it was all up to you to read.

And then, thanks to anybody who loves the story and supporting us through reviews, asks and following. Mostly, thank you for not judging it from the first two chapters. You really are supportive! ^^ I hope you enjoy the chapter and remember that we know that what Brittany/Kurt do is wrong. It's not like we promote it. Bye!

Ps – sorry for how long this got. It needed to be explained.

**Beta:** Amanda908565.

/

**Chapter 2**

"I don't know what to do, I need your help!" Quinn exclaims while they are walking slowly along the hallway, enjoying the minutes they still have got before the bell rings and they have to go to class. "I … I think I'm in love. But I'm so scared." She murmurs in complain with herself.

Santana and Sebastian are walking at her sides – Santana being on the right and Sebastian on the left – and they're suddenly shocked with the terms Quinn had come to when it was just supposed to be a conversion about Rachel Berry which started from the moment they got out to walk to school together.

"Quinn, honey …" Santana says hesitating. "You're never talked to her …"

"I know … how am I supposed to do that?" Quinn answers, sighing. "After what Brittany and Kurt did to you …"

"I agree." Sebastian says, beside her. "She would only act mean to you."

"No, she wouldn't!" Quinn defends her. "She never hurt me. She's different from Kurt and Brittany."

Santana shivers as soon as she hears Brittany's name. She almost panics as she rethinks of everything thing Brittany has done to her since the day they met.

"Quinn. You're lucky enough that they didn't choose to bully you too … why are you still stuck with such a person as Rachel? You deserve someone better." Santana says, trying to understand the reason why Quinn might have these feelings.

"That's not it." Quinn tries to complain. "I mean, the fact that she spends so much time with them doesn't mean she _is_ like them …" She murmurs, biting her lower lip. "I'm pretty sure she's a better person than that, and if she weren't, sometimes people act like this because of past traumas."

"Traumas are what Santana and I are going to go through because of them." Sebastian groans, clearly not agreeing. "How can you even _consider_ falling for such a person, Quinn?"

Santana looks down and bites her lower lips. She hates it when Sebastian gets mad, so she tries to calm him down, but Sebastian shuts her. "Sebastian-"

"No, Santana." He says firmly. "I won't accept that our best friend might get into what we go through everyday."

"Guys, you're acting _exactly_ like them." Quinn says, lifting her hands in the air and rolling her eyes, partly ironic and partly tense at the topic. "You're letting a prejudice towards a person winning over you … did you ever _talk_ to Rachel?"

"What about you, Quinn?" Sebastian asks immediately.

"I haven't done it yet, but I'm not judging at least!" Quinn answers, looking sharply at him and fixing her headband. "Which is exactly what _you guys_ are doing …"

"Quinn, you just said you're _in love_ with a person you don't even know." Sebastian complains.

"Guys, calm down …" Santana tries but she fail because Quinn is already speaking again.

"I _think _I'm in love." Quinn corrects him. "And by the way, love is supposed to be spontaneous and not _rational_." She groan, clearly annoyed. "Don't you ever think about what love might be like, do you?"

Santana stares around for a few seconds. She wants to be in love, so much, she wants to have someone who loves her exactly for what she is. But the way she looks, her personality, everything she is, only pushes people away.

If Quinn really found love in one of its unbelievable façades, then she can do nothing but to feel happy for her. She can't support her completely because she knows, or at least, she can imagine, what kind of person Rachel Berry is. She has no intention to spend days running to Quinn's place to wash away the tears that would come from Rachel hurting her. Quinn is such a good person and she doesn't deserve to be bullied.

No one does. Not even Sebastian and her.

She sighs sadly, holding the books close to her chest and wondering if future is ever going to be bright.

"You can't be in love, Quinn." Sebastian says again wincing. "Maybe you're attracted to her, but you can't talk about love. She doesn't even know you exist!"

"Well, maybe she doesn't." Quinn crosses her arms to her chest and turns to them, blocking their walk. "But I bet one day you're going to find out what it feels like to fall in love with the wrong person and you'll regret that you didn't believe me!" She says firmly and without even giving them the chance to reply, she turns and walks by, right when the bell rings, getting out dramatically and leaving them both thoughtful along the hallway.

/

Santana checks again that all the pipettes are ordered according to the periodic table and the possible chemical reactions. She smiles satisfied for her perfect work – like all the time – and she sits on the stool.

Or at least she tries to do so.

She's so ashamed that she doesn't even manage to sit properly on the stools because she's too short. She has to stand still during Chemistry lessons at times. A lot of people made fun of her for that, but Santana just thinks about her fantastic grades whenever it happens.

That's all that matters to her.

She gives up on climbing the stool eventually – it's just another of the many humiliations she has to go through – and she puts her elbows on the table, before she can check the time on her Catwoman watch.

It's ten past four P.M. and of course, Brittany is late. She sighs, passing a hand through her hair and she imagines which tortures she is going to go through today, considering that she hasn't even seen Brittany yet today.

When the door opens, Santana lifts her gaze. Brittany is leaning against the doorframe and she's blocking the door with her leg so that it won't close. She's wearing a black little top and tight dark jeans.

The scene is already too much like this, not to mention the lollipop she has got in her mouth, broken and juicy between her lips. She pulls it out with a _pop_ and smirks drunkenly towards Santana.

"Sanny, Sanny …" She murmurs, pulling off of the frame and walking towards her, stumbling unsurely.

Santana lifts an eyebrow in confusing. How come is Brittany calling her that sweetly? She is pretty much used to Loserz or Silicon Hot-air Balloon.

She isn't sure what this _Sanny_ means right now, but it surely is the kindest thing Brittany has ever said to her since they first met.

"Are you … are you okay, Brittany?" Santana asks hesitantly, noticing the weird uncoordinated way she's moving her legs (only after having stared for a few moments at how much of Brittany's pale skin is left uncovered by the top).

"Shouldn't I?" Brittany asks, poking her tongue out to lick over the sugar little ball, sucking it into her mouth. The smoke she had is making her head light and her body wanting. She pulls the lollipop out of her mouth again. "I'm so happy I'm meeting your boobs again, so yup, I'm fine."

Santana blushes as usual. She isn't used to someone complimenting her body yet. She looks down and murmurs something senseless, but Brittany is not going to pay attention to her words anyway.

Even though she is convinced there's something wrong with her, she lets it go and tries to avoid strange and uncomfortable situations as far as she can.

"I would want you to pay a lot of attention with today's lesson because a lot of this is going to be in the test." Santana explains, focusing on the sheets she has in front of her, on the desk.

"I'll pay _a lot_ of attention." Brittany murmurs, stepping closer to her, looking down, partly towards Santana's chest but surprisingly also over the desk. "Couldn't you … couldn't you wear a better shirt next time? Maybe one that shows some more skin …" She asks, wrinkling innocently her lips.

Next time Brittany's going to be more careful with her rule _No joints before lessons_.

Maybe not.

Santana is feeling her skin on fire. Brittany has been here for a few moments and she's already embarrassing.

"Brittany, f-focus please." Santana tries, ignoring her words, but especially how close they are all of a sudden.

"On what?" Brittany asks allusive, putting the lollipop back into her mouth while her eyes were still focused on Santana's face, and she doesn't even blink before she sucks the lollipop. "I might like the idea of focusing." She answers smugly, with her mouth full and her voice hoarse.

Santana hates herself for suddenly thinking that Brittany looks sexy like this; she hates herself for having wanted – even if for a slight moment – to taste her lips, pinker than usual; she hates herself for having felt something she should never feel. Not for Brittany.

"On t-this …" She starts and points at the notes on the desk, "I'm going to teach you chemical r-reactions."

"Okay." Brittany says, shrugging naturally. "Let me see about these reactions." She winks and Santana knows nothing good is coming out of this.

Santana hands her the sheet on which there already some equations written, but she finds it quite hard to focus on chemistry too. Brittany is getting closer to her, breathing around her with her breath tasting a lot like sweets because of the lollipop and … maybe like smoke? She can't be sure, but she isn't going to try and find out now.

"This is the easiest example of equation H2O - H3O+ + OH-," Santana points it, reading the line with the tip of the pen following her voice over the graphics as she explains the meaning of every symbol.

Brittany moves dangerously closer to her, with her lollipop between her lips and her hands wandering to wrap around Santana's hips. She presses her belly against Santana's side, pretending that she's interested in what she is saying.

"W-what are you doing?" Santana startles immediately at the touch and she loses a heartbeat. Then her heart starts beating faster, especially when Brittany's fingers shift slightly over her hip.

"I'm showing you an awesome reaction …" Brittany murmurs, wrapping her leg behind Santana's thigh to make her feel the slight wetness between her legs. "Isn't that interesting?"

And this is too much for Santana to stand.

She presses her eyes together and breathes in harshly, but no matter how hard she tries, she can't keep a moan from coming out of her mouth.

"Brittany …" She almost pants, tightening her fingers around the sides of the counter so that her hands are too busy to do anything stupid. She feels a heat starting to burn slowly inside her belly; she feels that sensation of excitement she had already felt around Brittany last time. She doesn't want to give her this satisfaction though.

"Hmm?" Brittany asks, smirking like she has no idea what she is doing wrong. "What's up?" She asks while she brushes her hips against Santana's thigh and leaning in so that she can whisper directly into her mouth. Before she does, she pulls a strand of Santana's hair gently, to uncover her ear. "Do you like this reaction?" She asks ironically, "I bet it's the same you're having …"

And then Santana moans louder as she shivers at the sensation of Brittany's warm breath over her skin. She has no idea how she ended up in this situation, but mostly, she has no idea how to get out.

Judging by her own wet panties, she only knows that she can't handle these provocations for long.

"N-no …" She murmurs unsure and she can almost feel Brittany smirking against her skin. "No way!" She repeats surer and finally finds the strength to pull back a little. Her legs are shaking, her hands are shaking, _her_ voice is shaking.

"Hey, no, _what_ no?" Brittany asks, giving her one bitch glare while she's still holding her lollipop in her left hand. "Come back here." She orders, sounding threatening while her eyes – darker than usual – are fixed into Santana's.

"I-I d-don't really think this is ap-appropriate." Santana murmurs, trying to kill the pleasant sensation coming from Brittany being so close to her. "M-maybe we should just delay this lesson to another date, you don't look s-sober enough today …" She adds, realizing how turned on she is when she accidently presses her legs together and feels the wetness.

This isn't possible, it can't be happening. She's never been attracted to any girl before. Well, she actually hasn't felt anything sexual for anyone because her life as always consisted in school, home and church until now … but this doesn't justify her sudden need to get back there and allow Brittany to touch her.

"Oh, Sanny …" Brittany whispers, getting closer, so that she can start stroking that black strand of her moving. "I didn't think you liked girls." She murmurs, close to Santana's ear, without realizing that Santana can now feel the smell of sweets from the lollipop and smoke from the joint she had smoke with Kurt mixed into her breath. "This is going to make things _a lot_ more interesting …"

Santana bites her lower lip so hard that she almost cuts her skin and when she tries and step back to free from her hold, she is pressed against the wall. There's no way out. She's with her back against the wall.

"Brittany …" She tries to think of a good excuse to explain why her skin is suddenly flushed, a good explanation that could deny Brittany's words that sound so damned truthful to her ears right now.

But something catches her attention.

Once again she breathes in the scent coming out of Brittany's hot breath leaning over her skin.

"Brittany … have you smoked?" She asks, sounding sure about the theory. "Is this … pot?"

"Nooo!" Brittany answers, widening her eyes at the words, like it isn't that. "Of course not …" She lies, "I'm sober enough to realize there are things about you I haven't figure out yet." She giggles, walking towards her, slowly. "And it's not your boobs this time."

Like it might be helpful, Santana crosses her arms to her chest to cover it so that Brittany can't properly look there.

She doesn't know if it's good to insist about what Brittany did or does, but it sounds like a good way to distract her from Brittany's ideas, which is probably going to save her from some embarrassment.

Maybe.

"I can't believe this …" She shakes her head in shock. "How much did you smoke? Do you actually know this thing can blow your brain?" Santana asks – as hard it is to admit – sounding worried about her.

"Yeah, so what?" Brittany answers, shrugging and getting closer to her, a little annoyed at the way Santana has covered herself. "One of the reasons why we're here – you, me and your twins – is that I**don't** have a brain."

"I … don't …" Santana bites her lower lip, unsure about what she is supposed to say. "I don't think you're stupid. You just need someone to educate you."

She has no idea why she said it, but it seems like it has some sort of effect on Brittany.

She looks at Santana for a few moments, apparently confused, like she has no idea what Santana is saying. Then she shrugs, considering the detail not so interesting – or appropriate – and she leans in so close that the tips of their feet brush together.

"If you're positively thinking about me being smart ..." She murmurs lowly, "maybe you should listen to me when I tell you something … or maybe you _try_ something."

"How could I ever trust you?" Santana asks, chewing her lower lip and fidgeting nervously with her hands, looking innocent.

"Can't you?" Brittany asks, pouting a little and putting her hands on her hips. "I wanted to help you with your sexuality." She murmurs falsely, like she doesn't want to take advantage of the situation.

"You aren't sober, Brittany. You have no idea what you're talking about." Santana answers, tightening her shoulders and looking down to avoid those blue eyes. "And then, you'll be the last person I'd ask any help to." She murmurs, not even sure that Brittany has heard her, seen how lost she seems from smoke.

And yet Brittany moves fast, pressing her hands fast against the wall, at the sides of Santana's head.

"Listen up, Lopserz," She says, making sure that her breath slides over Santana's mouth, "Don't you think you're complaining too much for your standards?" She asks, giving her one bitch glare. "Because, you know, my tongue is longer and sharper than yours."

Just like the last time, Brittany has come back to her arrogance, her violence that has been capable of breaking the exciting wave that was building up into Santana's body – not that Santana would admit it – and the only thing she manages to feel now is fear.

Pure fear.

She shuts up indeed; she's afraid that even her breath might bother Brittany.

"Fine, you see?" Brittany asks, smirking. "You're so much better when you obey …" She murmurs. "Since I'm not really good at listening today …" She moves in closer, playing with her mind without ever cutting the distances. "Why don't we just do something more fun right now and save the lesson for next time?" She whispers as she is still holding the lollipop in her hands, being careful not to press it against the wall.

Santana doesn't even dare looking up. She would just make Brittany proud of the way her eyes had got wet.

"W-what do you want to do?" She asks lowly, shaking because she's afraid of the answer.

There's no way Brittany is going to agree with studying like this, and Santana won't dare contradicting her.

Asking for help? That would be even worse and school is almost empty by now, except for Sebastian and Kurt maybe.

_Sebastian_, she thinks suddenly, wondering if he is in the same situation as her. It's pretty evident that Brittany and Kurt have skipped lessons to smoke in the courtyard.

She doesn't even have the time to hope her best friend is doing better than she is, because Brittany is talking again.

"I could make you feel something you've never felt before." She murmurs, lifting the lollipop to press it innocently on her own lower lip. "I could make you understand things; you might find out things you didn't know about yourself …" She provokes her but the truth is that Brittany isn't sober enough to even _understand_ what she is saying.

"I don't think I'm interested …" Santana answers fast, keeping her gaze focuses on Brittany's shoulder, trying not to look to anything in particularly, trying not look especially at Brittany's pale skin that seem like it was made to be kissed. "And why would you even help me?" She asks.

Brittany has to use of her will not to sigh into her face. She does it only because if she tries harder to focus and the way smoke makes her head spin, she can perfectly smell Santana's scent.

She would have expected it to be different, while Santana's smell is just good. It's somehow hot and inviting; in a way Brittany doesn't seem able to define.

"Why do you wonder so much?" She asks anyway, a little threatening. "You just have to nod, loser." She whispers, just an inch away from Santana's mouth. "_Look at me_."

When Santana obeys the order, she realizes how close they actually are and how intimate the position feels. The tips on their nose almost brush at every breath and Santana can feel her heart hammering in her chest.

She doesn't know why she is doing this but she just nods hesitatingly, her glasses sliding accidently along her nose. They're so annoying in this position, but Santana is even afraid to just lift her finger and fix them. She actually doesn't have_ the space_ to it, since she's trapped between the wall and Brittany's body.

She never looks either. She does everything she can not to look into Brittany's now dark blue eyes.

"I bet I could use you in so many different ways." Brittany whispers, still breathing on her mouth, knowing that it might affect Santana somehow. "I bet that if you sit on the desk right now," she murmurs lowly, "you would forget about anything you were supposed to teach me."

And Brittany is totally right.

Santana barely remember her name by now, not to mention the elements of the periodic table or any sort of equation.

Her mind is completely clouded. Tabula Rasa.

Not completely though.

Santana still can't deny to herself that she has thought about it for a moment; about the ways Brittany could have used her body. Not even one of these thoughts is appropriate to her sweet and innocent mind.

"Oh my God …" Santana murmurs indeed, surprised by her own mind.

"Exactly …" Brittany whispers, while a nasty dim light shines into her eyes at the awareness of what is going through Santana's mind. "As you can see, you might find this interesting too …"

Santana has no idea how Brittany actually managed to read her thoughts. It's probably because her eyes aren't capable of lying.

And now that Brittany has new weapon to torture her, how is her day going to get worse?

"No … of course not." She answers anyway, looking down at her own feet. "I don't like girls." She swallows, knowing that she can't even convince Brittany when she isn't sober.

"Look, I might be high, but I'm not stupid." Brittany answers indeed, pulling a hand off of the wall to press it on Santana's hip. "I bet I could feel just how wet you are without even touching you, Sanny." She murmurs, wearing a smirk. "Why do you lie to me? There's nothing wrong with being gay …"

Santana is probably in denial.

She isn't attracted to girls; that's what she says to herself. Brittany's tight hold on her hip doesn't turn her on, just like her low voice does or her body, _anything_; that's what she says to herself. Santana though can clearly feel what's happening between her legs, the way her panties feel soaked and sticky. A new wave of heat comes up from her lower body at this awareness. Brittany has realized too, but Santana shakes her head anyway.

She instinctively puts her warm hand on Brittany's cold one and they both startle at the touch. Santana shyly circles Brittany's wrist with her fingers, without making any pressure, even though it's clearly a silent request for Brittany to pull her hand away, because Santana has forgotten how to breathe by now.

"What are you even trying to do?" Brittany asks, lifting her eyebrows at the surprise of this touch. "If I were you, I wouldn't do that …" She murmurs, "Are you trying to pull my hands away?" She breathes on Santana's mouth. "Because if that's the case, you might want to learn to obey …"

"Yeah … I mean n-no!" Santana says, her voice shaking. Before Brittany can repeat it, she pulls her hands off, pressing the palm against the cold wall behind her back. Right now she would want so much to be like Ditto – her favorite Pokémon – so that she can turn into a wall or something that might allow her to escape Brittany. "C-can you let me g-go now? Please?" She asks innocently.

"Why would I do that?" Brittany asks immediately, with no hesitation. "I've just started with you and you want me to let you go?" She asks. "You didn't even teach me anything, you know that, right?"

"You won't allow me to …" Santana complains, arching her eyebrows. "If you'd just stop-" She cuts when she realizes she was about to challenge Brittany openly. She bites her tongue and looks down at the floor again.

Weirdly, Brittany lets go for once and doesn't hurt her. Not yet at least.

In fact, she sighs heavily, making sure that her smoky breath wanders over Santana's face, over and over again.

"Stop doing what?" She asks, slotting a leg between Santana's thighs. "If you're the one who didn't make chemistry interesting enough …"

Santana arches her back at the touch, involuntarily making her breast brush against Brittany while she moans louder than she had before at the touch.

"Y-you didn't even let me talk …" Santana complains panting, arching more and more while Brittany's perfect thigh presses against her suddenly throbbing sex.

She lifts it just slightly but for once, Brittany isn't completely to blame. Smoke makes her movements a little lighter, like she can't even control them or understand them completely. She doesn't manage to focus on every muscle she moves right now, for real.

"This is because your first word wasn't interesting …" She murmurs, lifting a hand to brush over Santana's jaw with the tip of her finger, and then her chin, teasing her through the clouds in her mind. "Just remember, it's all your fault. It always is."

Brittany doesn't even realize probably, but Santana has stopped listening to her. All she's focusing on now is the throb between her legs because she feels like she needs something to calm it down, but … Santana doesn't know what to do about it.

When Brittany presses her thigh there again though, Santana feels like she's exploding. Before she can keep it, she thrusts her hips forward creating a lovely friction that seems to soften her awkward urge.

She has no idea how Brittany is going to react to this, but Santana is really about to go crazy.

Brittany looks down for a moment, right at where she feels Santana's warm body searching a deeper contact with her leg. Without pulling her gaze off of it, she pushes her leg slightly forward, pressing to follow her movement and feeling a weird flame of longing slowly grow in her.

"Oh my God … This can't be happening …" Santana whispers to herself, but Brittany can hear her. And yet, her body doesn't stop moving, following that instinct and not her mind, like it has disconnected from Santana's smart head and all she can think of is the wave of pleasure that has come with the contact.

Right when she moves and seems to find the right fiction though, Brittany pulls her leg away, grabbing Santana's chin between her lips to make her look into her eyes.

"How can you even _think_ you don't like girls?" She asks seriously, but at same time amused. "You just wetted my leg," she murmurs lowly, "and you still think _I'm_ the one who doesn't want to listen to your lessons …"

Santana tightens her shoulders and bites her lower lip, while she can read shades of lust into Brittany's blue eyes, not knowing that Brittany could do the same with her black ones.

"I don't-I just-" She stutters confused, distracted from the heat coming from Brittany's hands on her face. "I'm so-sorry about your leg."

_Seriously, Santana?_ She asks herself into her head when she realizes how stupid is what she said. Plus, why is she supposed to apologize about something _Brittany_ wanted?

"You're not sorry enough." Brittany answers readily, biting her lower lip and shifting a little back from Santana's body still pressed into the wall. "Well, there's not even much to apologize for. You should apologize _to yourself_ for not taking care of your body when it needs your attention."

"T-this is not your problem." Santana mutters, pressing all of her body against the wall because she feels like her legs won't last long.

"You know what?" Brittany asks, putting her hands on her hips and not realizing how clumsy she looks. "You're right, this isn't my problem." She says, tightening her eyelids to look at her meanly after being… rejected? She isn't sure about this. "Just stay still until you grow spider webs just because you're afraid to pull your fucking panties off." She steps back from her finally, walking away annoyed.

Santana's legs give up eventually, letting her body slide against the wall until she's sitting on the floor. She is still panting harshly while her heart is hammering so fast it's scary. Her skin burns, right when Brittany touched it and she has no idea how she is going to go back home for how her muscles are shaking.

Even if her school day has come to an end with no scars or slushies, Santana knows she has given up to Brittany's will again without even really fighting.

And what's going to happen now that Brittany has this new advantage on her?

Santana can't do nothing but hope luck might help her when they're going to meet again.

/

They stare at the two teachers before them for a moment: Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury are looking at them with questioning eyes, waiting for the conversation to actually begin. Right now, into this room, they both have the same thing in mind: the lesson was traumatic. The can still feel the effects of having touched so closely Brittany and Kurt and, saddest thing, the way it turned them on.

"So …" Schuester begins, breathing in and trying to show a smile to the two students sitting before him. "How are things going?"

They both swallow, clearly already expecting the question; but still they don't have an answer.

They turn to look at each other, like they could ready the right answer into each other's eyes.

"Fine." They both answer after having nod at each other.

Judging from Will and Emma's gazes, they've lied worse than Homer Simpson when he swears he didn't eat any donuts or drink beer.

"Are you sure?" Will asks immediately, while Emma looks at him wincing, like she wants to suggest Will not to put too much pressure on them. "We totally realize that the task we gave you isn't the easiest," He crosses his arms to his chest, "Brittany and Kurt are trouble, so we're worried about you."

They both shiver with fear and – they're never going to admit it – excitement when they hear the names out loud. It makes them think of the lesson of a few hours before, still alive and perfect into their minds and mostly, all over theirs skins.

Santana can still feel the wetness between her legs.

Sebastian can feel something getting hard in his pants.

"It's all going amazingly, Mr. Schue." Santana lies, biting her lower lip.

"They didn't really, huh … give us too much trouble." Sebastian says at the same way.

The problem is that if they only dare to tell them the truth, even though there's a chance they might solve their problems, they also know there would be consequences with Kurt and Brittany; which means having to go through their revenges, even outside McKinley.

They both shiver at the thought too.

"So how is it going with the subjects too?" Mr. Schuester asks then like they can focus on that now that he's sure they're not in danger.

"You know that these students' education might depend on you, right?" Emma says, clearly worried about it. "They could fail this year and we don't want them to."

Sebastian and Santana shake their heads.

They have no idea how they're actually going to fill Kurt and Brittany's minds with knowledge, to make them succeed, but they surely can't fail.

"Brittany is getting better." Santana answers, being careful about the lies she chooses to say. She hates lying; she has never even been good at it. "Well, she finds chemistry a little tough, she confuses reactions." Santana blushes at her own words, reminding exactly how Brittany had turned them into something dirty somehow.

Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury look at each other for a moment, like they're thinking if they believe it or not. Eventually, they seem to do so and turn to Sebastian.

"How is it going with Kurt?" Schuester asks. "I really don't get the kid; he is brilliant during my lessons – when he attends them of course and then he just … does those things …"

Sebastian fidgets his fingers and looks down for a moment.

"I think Kurt is quite good with scientific subjects; he should just … try a little harder." He sighs. Captain America wouldn't be proud of him for this lie.

He's tented to tell the truth though, and Santana wants too; but they both miss the right dose of courage to do it.

"He seems to like biology. He has huh … he knows human body perfectly." He blushes at the touch of their bodies touching.

"Well, I thought this would have been worse." Schuester says, clapping his hands once. "_A lot worse_; instead, I can see that you're getting progresses even if slowly."

Once again, Sebastian and Santana nod.

Why the hell are they protecting them like this? They've got a chance to get them kicked them out of school, to fight their worst nightmares … and still, they're not doing that, they're lying to their teacher.

Suddenly though, Sebastian speaks.

"Mr. Schue … can I ask you something?" He asks unsure.

Mr. Schuester seems hesitating, already fearing that they're going to take their words back. Emma stiffens just like him.

"Of course, Sebastian." He replies eventually, trying to look calm. "Do so."

"I was wondering … I mean …" He clears his throat, like he is trying to make it sound as innocent as he can. "What if … they act badly on us?" Santana widens her eyes at the question coming out of her friend's mouth. "I mean … what would happen to Kurt and Brittany if - it's just an hypothesis of course – they hurt us?"

"Well, it is important that you're safe and no one ever even thinks of hurting you." Will answers, serious and direct. "So, if they did, there would surely be a disciplinary intervention and they could get expelled-" He suddenly stops and tightens his eyelids suspiciously towards both of them. "You aren't trying to tell us something, are you?"

"No, of course not!" Santana answers way too fast, stopping Sebastian before he could say anything. Sebastian looks at her confused. "We were just wondering," she continues, swallowing, "We wanted to be sure we're safe, that's it." Santana sighs.

Sebastian looks at her and shakes his head.

Santana is giving up, she's choosing for both of them for their good.

"Fine, guys." Mr. Schuester seems a little surer, but he still insists, "Because if something dangerous happens, if someone threatens you, you should come to us immediately so that we can take care of it."

Right now, Santana and Sebastian know they're safe, but as soon as they'll be out of this office, what's going to happen to them? Who is going to protect them from Kurt and Brittany?

No one.

They're alone.

They can't risk more than they already do every day.

If justice exists, sooner or later, Kurt and Brittany are going to pay for what they're doing.

And well, destiny actually already has plans for them …


End file.
